


The Voyage

by potterfanxp123



Category: Justice League - All Media Types, Star Trek: Voyager, Superman - All Media Types, Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 03:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5032522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterfanxp123/pseuds/potterfanxp123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Year is 2371. Humanity has advanced to the point that travelling the stars is no more a pipe dream. When the Starship Voyager is lost in the Delta Quadrant, two of it's crew members are reunited in the place neither expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Voyage

The Voyage:

**Disclaimer** : I own nothing herein. Justice League, Superman, Wonder Woman, and all their related content(s), is owned by DC Comics, while Star Trek, Star Trek Voyager, and all its related content is owned by the family of Gene and Majel Roddenberry.

**Chapter One** : _Two Worlds, One Family_

They had been in the Delta Quadrant for a month, by the time the two crews finally started warming up to each other enough to stop using terms like “Maquis” and “Starfleet” to identify each other. In that time, Kalistos Kendrick had kept to himself, thankful for his unique physiology which kept him from needing to eat as long as he had constant doses of yellow sunlight to substitute for actual food, a resource that could be found on any holodeck with the safety protocols turned off.

He wished he could lie and say he hadn’t always been this antisocial, but growing up on an isolated farm in Kansas, with parents that were terrified the government would learn of his existence and take him away, had kept his interactions with people a bare minimum for the first thirteen years of his life, a habit that had grown more and more prevalent as he’d grown older and seen the strides humanity would take from a society that needed his constant interference to a society that only called upon him to interfere in the most dire of situations.

Something he found he was _proud_ of them for accomplishing.

Over the centuries he’d been alive, and especially since the need for his interference had abated, he’d found he had only one true constant in his life. His best friend and girlfriend of ten years, turned wife of three and a half centuries, whom he thought he’d left behind in the Alpha Quadrant, Astrid.

So, as one might imagine, the first time he saw Astrid onboard the Starship Voyager it obviously came as a surprise. At first, Kalistos thought he was daydreaming, having finally gone insane from depression and absence. He hadn’t seen her in two years, since the disastrous assignment she’d received from Starfleet Command, undercover and the last he’d heard with another ship, with another crew, in the rebellious Maquis movement. That she ended up on the _Val Jean_ , in the Delta Quadrant, defied astronomical odds.

Yet, everything about the woman that looked like his wife screamed out at him.

Her scent was the same as the day he’d met her, a tropical air breezed around her with just a hint of gyros. Her eyes, which were focused on the Klingon at her side, were the same forest green that they had been for the vast majority of her life discounting that brief period where she played with color changing lenses to mask their unique shade of green. As if needing the reassurance, Kalistos focused his hearing on the heart of his raven-haired Champion of the Gods, and almost immediately felt his own respond to the staccato beat of that filled his mind.

Kalistos’s desire to talk to his wife, to be in her presence, was overwhelming. He could feel his being reaching out to her, could hear her voice as clear as her heartbeat, as she and the Klingon spoke about their upcoming shifts. For the first time in two years, he felt lighter than air, and wanted nothing more than to reach forward, grasp her around the wrist and pull her into a kiss that held such passion it couldn’t be contained in a thousand Aphrodite’s.

His all too brief glimpse of perfection was cut short as they rounded the corner ahead, getting into the turbolift, his ears trained on her melodic voice as she commanded it to head towards, “Deck 3”.

Everything within him screamed at him to go to her, to ignore the duty he had to perform before he too could clock out for the day. His wife was, by now, somewhere on Deck 3, her heartbeat within listening distance as its slow, rhythmic beats soothed him.

How had he missed it before? He knew the sound of her heart better than his own, better than any other person he’d ever known. How had he missed the one heartbeat that actually meant something to him in the paltry sum of a hundred and forty-four souls when he’d found it before whilst among _five_ _quintillion_ people he’d never met before?

He reached the hydroponics bay lost in thought, absently looking over the well-growing crop of vegetables that had sprouted in the month the ship had been stuck in the Delta Quadrant, while he planned his surprise for the love of his eternity.

While he did so, Kalistos, the Kryptonian once known the universe over as Kal-El, couldn’t help but grin. Tonight. Tonight he would find her. He would find her and everything would be right again. He’d move Olympus or Hades themselves to make sure.

As time often did when he found himself lost in thoughts of his lady love, Kalistos whistled the tune the musician’s played at his and his wife’s wedding on the island paradise of Themyscira, the one day that his mother-in-law’s word was not law, as Diana’s wedding was blessed by the Hera, Goddess of Marriage herself.

“Excuse me, sir,” the voice of the youngest member of the crew interrupted his felicitous attitude. He turned, looking to the young woman, finding it difficult to believe that she was only two years old. After all, the Ocampan had the looks of woman twenty years in age. Regardless, her hands were fiddling behind her back and her face had the look of a woman anxiously awaiting bad, nay horrible, news.

“Yes, Kes is it?” he asked to the Ocampan who had the idea to convert Cargo Bay two to a Hydroponics bay. “What can I do for you?”

“Yes sir. I just needed to inform you of my need to leave early today, I was just informed that Neelix has been injured… I was hoping that you could keep an eye on the seedlings and sprouts for me? Captain Janeway says that you’re the resident horticulturist.”

“I am, my upbringing giving me unique insight into the growth pattern of fresh produce. Yes, of course I’ll keep an eye on your produce, young lady. Give my regards to your young Talaxian. I’ll be here until the end of my shift.”

“Thank you,” she said in relief as she ran out. Kalistos sighed, wondering what kind of trouble the catlike man had gotten himself into now. Promising the Ocampan that he’d check on her crop, he walked over and took note that everything was neat, almost as if she were unused to the kind of work running a farm would require.

Still, she had good growth with this nitrogenated soil, so she must be doing something right. Still, since his mind was now focused on his work, the Kryptonian thought he might as well get something productive done.

Smirking, he walked over to one of the working stations set up at his request, pulled out a test tube, and looked through the types of non-mineral and mineral nutrients supplied to the hydroponics bay when the Captain approved the creation of it.

Finding the ones he needed, Kalistos separated them between those that were harmless mixed together, like the hydrogen and oxygen, from those not so harmless, like the oxygen from the carbon.

Gently, he measured and mixed them together. Then, he placed the entire mixture in the centrifuge, mixing it for just a few moments, before he said, “Computer, run compositional analysis on nutrient compost in test tube 1.”

_“The process will take five minutes,”_ the computer’s voice, modelled after Betazoid diplomat Lwaxana Troi, who Federation officials said was the most accommodating ambassador they’d ever had the pleasure of meeting, stated. He rolled his eyes.

_“Analysis: Compost is 10 percent of the following: hydrogen and carbon, 5 percent phosphorous, 15 percent potassium, 45 percent oxygen, 4 percent boron, 2 percent of the following: manganese, iron, and zinc, 1 percent of the following: copper and chloride, three percent molybdenum.”_

“Computer, based on known information for Delta Quadrant plant life, what effect would nutrient compost have on growth rate?”

_“There is an estimated 3.0914 percent increase in growth rate of Delta Quadrant plant life based on known conditions.”_

Sighing, he said, “Very well. Run simulations to confirm the projections, computer, then change hydroponics bay ambient settings to night mode.”

Once he was finished with the day, he went off duty and exited the bay, quickly through the corridor to the holodeck, where he entered and said, “Computer, pulsating shower circa 2190, hot water 100 degrees Celsius, safety protocols off.”

“Warning, temperature exceeds normal safety parameters.”

“Override,” he said stated sighing as the water hit his muscles, before looking around. Grinning, he picked up the small gel pack that lay on the counter behind him, before he placed it under the water, watching it grow in amusement as he started scrubbing his body.

The biosponge was one of his favorite creations from the past two hundred years. Made with a gel that magnified, not muted, the body’s natural clean scent, it shrunk as it dried, and was totally self-cleaning, as the gel was specially designed with a self-cleaning compound that had soon become proprietary knowledge of the Federation for use in their Gel packs. He scrubbed, removing all of the various scents he’d used over the two years that Astrid had been gone to disguise himself, before moving to his hair, which he’d cleaned using the same biosponge as before.

He turned the water off, and walked over to the mirror, that much like mirrors of the time period had no steam covering it. Looking at his face, he directed a single, continuous stream of heat vision to reflect off of it, feeling the hairs burn off of his face. Even after all these years, science could not do what his eyes were so easily capable. He walked over to the console, and used three of his replicator rations to create a clean uniform, dressing as he said, “Thank you, Computer. End program.”

As the steam-filled room disappeared, he grinned and he said to himself, “Now, let’s go find my wife.”

He exited the door, ignoring the incredulous look of the males that had passed him on their way into the room he’d just exited. Closing his eyes it wasn’t difficult to pinpoint the love of his life, now that he knew to listen for her. Following his ears, Kalistos took the turbolift to the Mess Hall, the place he’d avoided the past few weeks, and grinned at the rapid pace of her heart as she laughed with a group of female friends, who had just entered the packed room.

He rushed to catch them, slipping through seconds after Astrid’s tiny group, his mind focused on only her. He reached for her hand, ignoring the startled gasp of indignation that came from her lips as he reveled in the feel of her luxurious skin, it was still as delicate as the day they met.

Ignoring the warning snarl of the Klingon he’d not cared before to meet, he turned her around as gently as possible, knowing her natural reaction to what she perceived was an attack was to respond in kind, and watched her eyes for recognition. If, after all this, she’d somehow been forced to forget him, he might go insane.

Silence fell around them as both Maquis and Starfleet waited for the imminent eruption of hostilities between the lone male and group of Maquis females. Still, the reactions of people he didn’t know or care about were redundant, as were the scraping of chairs that echoed around them. All that did matter was the happiness he felt as his wife’s eyes brightened with recognition, arms reached around him, smile bloomed across her face, as she pulled his lips to her own.

Neither had a care in the world, their hearts falling in sync within moments of coming together again, even as hands tried pulling them apart. It didn’t matter who spoke, or who threatened, though in the latter instance he was going to guess the Klingon.

Whether it was the Captain, who insisted that they needed to separate before asking if there could be some sort of pheromone affecting them, or the Commander who threatened to have him placed in the brig for insubordination, he gleefully ignored any and all attempts from those that he considered unimportant to his long-term goal, at the fore of which was reuniting with the woman now kissing him.

Neither cared, their breaths falling in sync as their tongues fought for dominance. Then, he felt a pair of masculine arms trying to pull him from behind, a pair of fingers and a thumb trying to pinch his non-existent trapezius nerve. Nor did he care, moments later when he felt Astrid’s irritation blossom before the sound of someone impacting the wall farthest from him echoed through the Mess Hall.

Finally, before weapons could be drawn, they pulled apart but kept their gazes locked as Astrid smiled and whispered in a language that no one apart from him could understand, _“Kal-El! I have missed you, my love!”_

A gasp filled the room, alerting both formerly separate crews that something significant had just happened, though neither had any idea what. He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling in amusement as he answered her in his native tongue, not bothering to care that at some point the universal translators might possibly pick up enough of the nuances of the language to translate it.

_“Diana,”_ he smiled ecstatically _. “I have missed you as well, my heart.”_

Kalistos smiled rubbing his thumb along her jaw as he looked her deep into her forest green eyes, “I thought it would be a millennia before I saw you again.”

Astrid laughed heartily raising her fingers to his chin, her eyes meeting his ocean blue gaze, “And I you, my heart. Gods above, Kal, the thoughts that raced through my mind when you took my wrist! For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating! I thought there could be no way that I would find my husband on this ship, so far from home, until I turned around and saw you again. I thought you lost to me a thousand years, this area of space so unknown.”

“I would have spent eternity looking for you, my love.”

It was stated so emphatically that no one doubted the pledge behind it. Drawing her close for a chaste kiss Kalistos grinned, “I was shocked when I saw you this morning walking along the corridor with the Klingon woman. I’ve become so detached that I wasn’t listening for you.”

“Your heart was broken, Kal. I know you, husband. You need not feel guilt for such.”

“Yes, but I only stopped searching because we were pulled to the Delta Quadrant! If I had waited one more day, beloved, I would have found you a month ago, and for that I’ll always blame myself. As soon as I realized that I wasn’t hallucinating, I wanted to throw myself out of the closest airlock for giving up when I had. Then, after coming to my senses, I knew I needed to surprise you.”

“And you did,” she said before she sheepishly looked around, “And the rest of our fellow crew as well, dear heart.”

He groaned and shifted his eyes around, looking at the annoyed expression on some faces, the amused expression on a few of his colleagues faces, the outright murderous expression on the Klingon’s, who was stuck in the deuterium wall of the Mess Hall, and the First Officer’s faces, and the annoyed but amused expression on the Captain’s.

“But first, my love, I believe we should get your friend out of the wall.”

She looked around in confusion, wondering what had happened, and said, “Sister? How did you come to be in the wall?” when she saw the Klingon woman stuck there. The endearment caused him to blink.

“Sister? Do I have to worry about how Donna is going to feel later, dear? Should I start fearing for my well-being, as well? I know how violent your sisters are towards people they don’t like.”

“B’Elanna Torres and I have faced many enemies together, Kal! She is a fine warrior who also enjoys the bladed arts, so should get along with Donna as well as any of my other sisters as well, especially since she taught me to use the Bat’leth!”

He groaned, hoping to keep that particular blade away from the Amazon’s for as long as possible, as he looked at the Klingon that was eying him with a bit less trepidation now.

“And, why would you need to worry for your well-being? What did my mother say, Kal?”

He groaned again, but said, “I’m sure we’ll have time to talk about that, dear heart. Now, I’m going to help your sister out of the Deuterium wall that she finds herself in.”

Astrid huffed but nodded. Rolling his eyes at her impatience, something that hadn’t changed since he’d met the Amazon in 2011, Kalistos walked over to B’Elanna who watched his approach as he said, “Just a moment, sister.” Looking at her torn uniform, he noticed that while some places were clearly beyond salvaging, the Klingon should be able to be removed, as well as maintain her modesty, with no problem. So he lifted her carefully, but with barely tapped strength, and then set her gently down and said, “Better?”

She nodded, but was unable to respond as Astrid’s hand gripped his and said, “Let us go, beloved. We have much to catch up on!”

 “I believe you both owe us an explanation,” Captain Janeway said interrupting them as she finally regained control of herself, “For one, I want to know how anyone can throw a fully grown humanoid through six feet of Deuterium. However, I am not without sympathy for your situation, so I’ll expect you both in my ready room tomorrow morning 0930. I will say that I expected more from you, Commander.”

He nodded his head in acknowledgement of the reprimand, ignoring the startled speculation that echoed around them, as he smiled and said, “Shall we, my lady?”

“Of course, my heart.”

 

 


End file.
